Sunday 29 June 2014

R.I.P. FYUP : Musings of the "Lab-rat" batch

Can you see the 2013-14 FYUP batch students n the image below? Well, of course not, because they have been embroiled in this mess for so long and so deep that they seem to have lost the way.

Rescue us from this maze, please?
 Or maybe, we were just following the path shown by the University which has brought us to this labyrinth. But, let us borrow words from our favorite author (read: John Green), "The only way out of the labyrinth of suffering is to forgive"



As we hear the news of FYUP being scrapped, among other exasperating reforms (or is it reversal of reforms? In any case, we are too exhausted with rage to ponder over these frivolous details!), we experience a sort of unprecedented confusion. The future is a cliffhanger, which is nothing new for the guinea pig batch because for as long as we remember our future has always been a cliffhanger. 
As Charlie says in The Perks Of Being a Wallflower,  “So, this is my life. And I want you to know that I am both happy and sad and I'm still trying to figure out how that could be.”


It is not that bad for the coming batch. Their admissions got deferred by what, a week, ten days? What about us? Why isnt anyone talking about how we are feeling upon knowing that all our anxiety, all our projects, all our experiences, all our marks, all our group work was illegal? The past year wasn't a smooth ride AT ALL! In fact, it was the opposite: that unavoidable group work, eliciting work out of people, strict attendance rules, longer hours at college, an abundance of presentations. And then a bunch of people tell us it was outside the periphery of legality! Dear reader, the marks humans leave are too often scars. (We never knew our favourite author, who is not even Indian, could teach us so much about The Great Indian education System Chaos, thanks John Green). Our point is, we have been scarred for life. We are warriors, we have survived so many battles, and yet there are more to come.


And to make matters worse, our present can give us no consolation either, what with a fickle-minded fantastical Academic Council taking no decision on our fate. Leaving us utterly perplexed. And heart-broken. And perplexed.  And sick. And perplexed. And hopeless. And perplexed.

What the hell is happening? Anyone care to explain?


Whenever someone used to ask us, how our college studies are going on, we rolled our eyes. Now when someone asks us what are we planning as a career, we roll our eyes. If the University can take our careers for granted, can't we be a little less ambitious? After all, we have been treated well for having ambitious thoughts of the next three years, now we are not going to plan. The next time someone asks us, beta kya karne ka irada  hai, just ROLL. YOUR. EYES.

Sing with us: ROLL YOUR EYES!


They say, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. So, after the tyranny of tiresome tirades of taking away our tranquility, we better turn into freaking Hercules. This turmoil has set the wheels of our minds rolling, and so much so, that we've come up with a new tagline for DU: bored, potential catastrophe raising university seeks the careers of naive students.

Because no one gets it!

The thing about DU is, it demands to be remembered and criticized. It just couldn't stomach the fact that we were gradually getting acclimatized to the system, embracing it with all its faults, and probably, had we been given the good fortune, would have fallen in love with it like you fall asleep, slowly then all at once. But this was a frivolous notion that we FYUPians (or FYUPiites? No longer matters, does it?) had begun to foster. How could we forget that DU gets its kicks by peppering our lives with uncertainty and histrionics of the most superior degree.
   
All our emotions in this article!

But even the hell hole we've been dragged to has one perk: it has made us adept at hanging by a loose strand of thread, even when the pedophilic swing of our life oscillates between the  UGC and DU, neither relenting nor stopping to ask if we are okay. Because okay, my friends, is a very filthy word. It is bursting with assurances of a state of contentment or oblivion, the two polar ends of our lives currently, which neither of these giant pushers have kicked our ass hard enough to reach.





 So, we have decided that it is perhaps okay that we stop planning for the future, or etching our future ahead, because one step from DU, and boom, all our plans go straight to their funeral. The funny thing is, those plans actually attend their funeral. Okay, not funny, it is rather sad.



Our last words: If someone ever told you that this batch loves surprises, we, on behalf of that inebriated person, take our words back. We hate surprises. Do not surprise us anymore.  




P.S. The authors are themselves victims of this system and want you to sympathize. If you disagree on any point, be kind in your criticism, for we are in a very fragile state now, and can fall apart any moment!


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